SonicEXE, Origins, The Explanation of The Killings
by SNAKEBUM
Summary: Hi, I'm Tom, you have no idea how long I've been trying to get online, but you need to read this. Now.


,Origins

My first child with blood, enjoy.

First of all, I want to confirm that I don't believe in ghosts, I'm not atheist, but I believe in science. That doesn't change what I saw though, and I feel like this can explain the killings that the police have been trying to figure out.

I'm Tom, Tom Bishop, I used to work as a mail guy (yes, a mail guy,) at Sega America. Now, most people would look upon this like some kind of joke. Why would a videogame company need a mail man? Because I was working from the 80's to late 90's.

Day 1: 2 days away from "The Incident"

It was a basic work day, Sega had been doing a lot of brainstorming over how the hell they were going to get people to buy their games, with Nintendo parading Donkey Kong and Super Mario around, Sega needed a cash cow. Now, I know it sounds weird, but I used to check the mail (it was the most boring job in the world, may as well have some perks right?), on this particular day, I noticed a large envelope, addressed to the head of Sega America. I couldn't resist! I had to know what was in there. It was the worst mistake I've ever made.

I slowly opened the package, withdrawing first a letter, then a disk, one of those new fan-dangled CD's or something, and finally a crudely shaped, blue doll, like an animal of some type. I opened the letter, reading its contents with great excitement, this is what I saw.

Sir,

I believe I have found a way to put Sega's name on the top.

I am speaking from Japan.

In this pack, you will find my design for new character and game.

He is called Sonic.

I put much work into this project.

Please think.

Naoto Ohshima

I laughed for a while at his horrible English, then it struck me. A new game?! I had to get this to the boss right away!

Day 2: The eve of "The Incident"

The next day, I woke with a smile on my face and cheer in my heart, it was going to be a good day. I went to work right away. Everyone was in a good mood, we all thought this Sonic character was really going to help the company get off the ground. I had just entered the building, when the manager grabbed my arm. "Tom! Great to see you my boy" He said in his still weakening Japanese tone. "Morning…sir." I said hurriedly, this was the first time I'd ever seen the man this happy. The conversation continued for a few minutes, then I felt a chill down my spine. Like when someone says that a man is stepping on your grave, only this was like a bulldozer. I turned around, to see a little boy whispering to himself. "Ah…yes. This is… Max. He'll be testing out the game. To see if it's… good." The boy didn't acknowledge us at all, he just stood there, looking at the floor and whispering. The good feeling of that day had left.

Day 3: "The Incident"

I woke up in a cold sweat the next morning. I don't remember what I had dreamt that night, but it must have been really fucking creepy. I took a shower and watched a bit of TV, then I saw the time. 10 O' clock! I was late as crap. I jumped off the couch, Cheetos spilling across the floor of my apartment. I grabbed some clothes and gassed it to the office. I should have stayed home. I opened the door, going to my floor of the elevator, I felt uneasy, the chilling sensation came again. Then the doors opened. MY FUCKING GOD! The office was empty of life, in other words, everyone was slumped in their cubicles, dead. I grabbed a shotgun from the emergency closet (Yes, we had guns in our closet), and began to walk through the office. What the fuck was going on? Then I knew. I ran to the boss' office, and there was the little bastard, bloody knife on lap, playing the test game. I didn't waste any time, I shot that piece of shit in the face the second he turned around. Right in the eyes. Right… in… the… head. The boss' computer suddenly began to spaz out, playing crazy static and shit. I ran to the monitor, and I saw it. Millions of uploads of the game " " being spread across the frail network that was the 90's internet, then the power went out. I fainted.

I live out my life in a padded room. In an asylum. The government covered it up. The whole bloody thing. But I was always believed to be the killer. And I would have thought I was insane too, if it wasn't for that same crude blue doll being thrown into my cell the second I had been shoved in.

My only room-mate.


End file.
